Where Is the Blood
by Mad Vampire Poet
Summary: It is the 74th Hunger Games and Buffy Summers is chosen as tribute. But when she meets the other tribute, Liam, she grows too close to him for her liking... AU. Katniss and Peeta were never tributes, because it wouldn't make sense.
1. Chapter 1

**_Where Is the Blood_**

_Chapter One_

Spike was sleeping. Just that one sentence sounded so mundane, but was so unusual, for Spike at least. But even while he was sleeping, he couldn't rest. The memories wouldn't let him go. They held him tightly still, haunting his dreams every night. He could hear her in his head as she took her last breath and begged her not to kill him. He could hear all of them, of course. Everyone he'd killed in that stupid 'game'. The youngest had been a twelve-year-old girl, he believed. What kind of monster had he become? The remorse flooded through him, so potent he wished he'd lost. But he shouldn't think that, he knew he shouldn't. It was only wishing his fate upon some other unfortunate soul. Was death better? He'd never know. He couldn't take his own life. He was too afraid. That was why he'd won in the first place, wasn't it? Because, when it came to it, his will to live overpowered all else.

…

Buffy Summers awoke early from her deep slumber, disturbed by a sound nearby. At first, her mind still sleepy, she could not place it, but a few minutes later, she recognised it for what it was. Knocking.

"Come in," she groaned. Her mother, Joyce, opened the door and walked in.

"Buffy, honey, you have to get up," she said.

"Why?" Buffy asked. She slid out of bed – well, she stumbled, actually – and walked slowly over to her mother. "It's early and I'm tired,"

"Buffy… It's the day of the Reaping. You have to be there," Joyce said. The expression on Buffy's face went from sleepy and confused to wide awake and frightened. She'd always hated the Reaping. There was always that ever-growing fear that her name would get picked. The first time she had gone, four years ago, she had been inconsolable and had cried and cried the whole time. She'd gotten better about hiding her fear, recently. But that didn't mean it had lessened. In fact, every time she went, she was increasingly overwhelmed with emotions. It didn't help that she had to take tesserae to feed herself and her mother. It only increased the chances that her name would come out.

Buffy bit her lip. "Okay mom. I'll get ready. You go make breakfast,"

Her mother left and Buffy headed over to her wardrobe. Her clothes were old and poorly fitting, but still, they were clothes. They were lucky enough to be alive, so Buffy wasn't going to start complaining about ugly clothes.

Fully dressed, she walked out of her bedroom which led directly to the main room which was a living room, kitchen and dining room all in one. Four doors led off it: Buffy's room, Joyce's room, the bathroom and the door that lead outside. This house was the best they could get. She sat down to her meagre breakfast with Joyce. Few words were exchanged; this was too much of a tense time for them to be extremely talkative.

…

Liam sat on the steps outside his house, staring up at the sunny sky. He didn't care if it blinded him; he knew he wouldn't have a chance in hell if his name was picked. He'd done a few jobs where he could after his father had died in the mines, trying to support his family. It'd had worked a little. None of them were dead. But they were all so skinny… He knew he could only put death for them off for so long before it took them into its arms and that would be soon, he knew it. He'd been taking tesserae out since his twelfth birthday, which seemed millenia ago. He knew he'd be picked this time. And without him, his family would all die within months.

* * *

This chapter was basically just a quick introduction to some of the main characters. I hope you like it so far. If so, please review! The little box is right beneath the chapter, it only takes a few secs. Oh, and if you were wondering, the title comes from a Delain song... I'm no good with titles okay!


	2. Chapter 2

**_Where Is the Blood_**

_Chapter Two: The Reaping_

Buffy stared around wildly as they were taken to the square, looking for her mother. She saw her, remembered where she was and looked back at the stage.

The mayor of District Twelve was going on about the history of Panem and all that crap. Buffy didn't care a bit and she was sure no one else did either. They just wanted to hear the tribute's names being called so that they'd know they'd averted disaster for another year.

The mayor called out the name of their last victor, William Pratt. Buffy remembered him. Not from the games; she hardly watched them. But from before. A year before his games, she was ten and he was seventeen. He'd been babysitting her for six years, when she was four and he was eleven. He'd done it to get some pocket-money. He helped teach her to read and they'd played together a lot. But Buffy had never spoken to him since he had won his games.

He was walking up to the stage now, head down, hands deep in his coat pockets. He looked so different since the Games. In some ways, he looked more like a citizen of the Capitol than of District Twelve. He had dyed his hair platinum blond and he wore a long black coat. But he didn't look as fake as some of the Capitol people did. His hair may have been dyed, but it was still his hair and not a wig. But he was nothing like he'd been before the games. She remembered how he was with his floppy, brownish blond hair all messed up… And that girl he'd liked. He'd killed her.

The person who was to read out the names of the tributes – Buffy didn't know whether it was a man or a woman because she wasn't looking at them – walked over to the glass bowl where the tributes names were. Buffy didn't think it would be her. Her name hadn't been in there many times, not compared to a lot of the kids from the Seam. She'd taken tesserae a few times, but they hadn't needed it much. They were poor for part of the merchant class, but they were still bigger, more well fed than the kids from the Seam.

"Buffy Summers!"

Buffy gasped, shocked and not sure what to think. A girl behind her pushed her forwards and she walked on shaky knees towards the stage. She'd been picked. Against all odds, she'd been picked.

As she walked up to the stage and took her place, a warm hand brushed her own. She looked to see William, right beside her now. He had changed. His face still looked even younger than his twenty-three years, but there was something about him… In his eyes, something had changed. Something had snapped. This wasn't the same boy who used to look after her when she was a kid. She was staring into the eyes of a cold-blooded killer who had killed his own lover and then watched eight teenagers be taken to their deaths, unable to do a thing. That sounded terrible to Buffy, but she couldn't imagine it. It seemed wrong to her that it was him who was staring at her with sorrow and pity. To him, she was still the little girl she had been back then.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Buffy drew in a sharp breath, trying to keep herself from crying. She didn't want to die.

"Liam Thomas!"

Buffy heard the announcer person say the name, but it meant nothing to her. She'd only seen Liam a few times. But then, she had seen him enough to know that he was hardly a skinny guy and could probably kill her with his bare hands. She remembered how he'd been a few years back. Always drinking and partying, even though he was barely saved from starvation. He'd always been trying to escape the pain and the stress of everyday life. But a while ago, something had changed in him too. He'd become more responsible, started helping his family and making up for all he'd done. It didn't sound major, but when you were dying of starvation, the things he'd done could have got them all killed. Buffy did know what had happened. His father had died in a mining accident.

The mayor started speaking again, something about the Treaty of Treason. Buffy didn't care. She was still staring at William, right up until she shook hands with Liam. That was probably the first time she ever looked at Liam Thomas properly. He was seventeen, she knew that already, but his build suggested that of someone older, at least William's age.

After that, the anthem played and Buffy was glad, knowing that they'd be released from all the camera's. She needed to cry.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter Three_

Buffy was sat inside the Justice Building feeling very nervous and upset. She was going to die. It seemed so abstract, like something completely impossible, but she knew it was going to happen. Of course, she'd known it was going to happen all along, but she'd never thought she'd die so soon. She'd thought for sure that she'd live until she was at least sixty and have avoided the horror of the Hunger Games. But now she'd been proved wrong.

Joyce came inside at that moment, startling Buffy out of her thoughts. It was her mother she'd been waiting for, to say goodbye to her. She'd managed to keep her eyes dry when her name was called and she'd shaken hands with Liam, but now the tears welled up in her eyes, falling uncontrollably. Joyce didn't say a word, only lay a hand on her daughter's shoulder, trying in vain to comfort her. Buffy didn't look sixteen then, with her face all scrunched up and her eyes red. But then again, she didn't feel sixteen either. She felt like a scared child.

"Buffy…" But Joyce didn't say any more than that. She didn't know what she could say. Buffy could tell that what she wanted to say was that she'd win and it would all be okay and they'd be rich for the rest of their lives. But she knew why her mother wasn't going to say that. Because she couldn't believe it. Why would Buffy win? She hadn't had any experience with this sort of thing. The Careers from districts one and two would have the advantage. William had won five years ago, but he'd been lucky. He certainly hadn't got his hopes up before the Games. And Buffy wouldn't either. She knew she was going to die. She didn't want to, but as far as she was aware, she couldn't avoid it.

"Goodbye," She whispered to her mother. Then Joyce started crying as well.

…

Liam's sister Kathy was crying softly into his coat, begging him not to go. He had tried his best to console her, but that wasn't possible. They had their arguments, but Kathy had always wanted her brother to live, even if she might have said otherwise a couple of times. They all had. But Kathy was the only one who showed up now. No one else wanted to see Liam now. No one else gave a damn about him. But Kathy had always been his friend. He absently stroked her hair, trying to control the shaking of his hands the best he could. It wasn't until now that he realised just how afraid he really was of the fate that was coming to him. He'd never thought much about his own death, even in the Reaping. He'd always just been bored. But now he was terrified. He shouldn't be thinking like that, he knew. He could still win, right? He wanted to believe that he could. He didn't want to just resign himself to thinking that he was going to die. He sighed.

"Goodbye Kathy," He said. There was no hint of fear in his voice. Only sadness.

* * *

Sorry it was so short, but I was really stuck. I'm stuck on almost everything right now. At least I wrote something though, right? Sorry it's short and it took so long. Hopefully it will get better soon.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Where Is the Blood_**

_Chapter Four_

There were tears in Buffy's eyes as she stared out of the window of the train. Leaving her mother was painful, but not as painful as the thought that she might never go home. She thought again, certainly not for the last time, that she didn't want to die. She couldn't help sobbing slightly, despite all her attempts to look stronger in front of her fellow tribute. She looked over at Liam then. He had found some whisky and was gulping it down. As disgusted as she was, Buffy couldn't blame him. They were being led like cattle to their deaths; he deserved numbness.

"So. We not speaking then?"

Buffy turned abruptly at the sudden voice. William leaned against the door frame, a smirk on his face. It felt so strange to look at him. Was he still the same boy he had been so many years ago? Or was he so different now that he was only a monster wearing the young man as a disguise?

"Not really," Buffy replied to him, wiping the tears from her cheeks, not that it was much use. Her red eyes gave her away. "What do you think we should be talking about? You think we should be talking about how we're going to die? Because I think that's really all we've got left to think about, isn't it? We already know we will die. It's just _how _we're going to die that we need to discuss." The tears were returning to Buffy's eyes. They might have been tears of rage, of desperation, of fear or even of sorrow. There were too many emotions going haywire inside her for her to know.

To her surprise, William's smile grew wider. "You know, I like you, Buffy. I don't want to watch you die. Him, on the other hand, I couldn't care less about," Liam glared daggers at him, but William continued. "I don't want you to talk about how you'll die. I want you to talk about how you're going to make sure you _live_."

"And how do you expect me to do that? In case you haven't noticed, I'm hardly that big and strong." Buffy said.

William chuckled. "Who said anything about strength? You remember how I was when I was seventeen. I was a skinny little boy then, just like all the other kids around here. I still won, didn't I? Don't try to use brute force, Buffy. _That's_ how you'll get yourself killed. And that's not really want we want, is it now?"

Buffy made no reply. She heard Liam drop his bottle and swear loudly. She drew back in fright at his anger, inwardly admonishing herself for her cowardice.

"You've gotta be smart in those Games. Resourceful like,"

"Why do you care?" Buffy suddenly asked, immediately regretting her words.

William looked hurt when she said that, as if he didn't know why she was asking such a stupid question. Perhaps he didn't. Perhaps he remembered her better than she thought he did. "Of course I care," He said, his brow crinkled in confusion. Buffy took a deep breath and stood up. "Where are you going?" William asked.

"Nowhere," Buffy replied. She sat down beside Liam. He gave her a single glance and returned to his whisky. Buffy had never felt so alone in her life.

…

Buffy was sitting on her bed in the train with her arms crossed over her knees when she heard a knocking at the door. She sniffed and wiped tears from her eyes.

"Come in," she croaked, not even giving a thought to who it might be. William opened the door, letting in light from the hall that nearly blinded Buffy. "William." She said, vaguely surprised.

"Spike now, actually," he corrected. He closed the door enough so that only a sliver of light shone in to illuminate their faces. He'd been crying as well. She knew it was selfish, but that made Buffy feel slightly better. At least she wasn't the only one. "Just came to tell you we've got dinner ready in the… er… dining room,"

"Okay," Buffy said, stepping off her bed and walking over to the door. She was about to leave and smelled something on Spike's breath as she passed him. It was a familiar scent, but one that took a moment for her to identify. Whisky. "You've been drinking," she stated.

Spike smiled at her, only with his lips, eyes staying as miserable as they had been. It was a strange, disturbing smile that made Buffy feel sick, scared and sympathetic all at once. "Well, I guess Liam's not the only one who finds solace in poison," He flashed her that terrible smile again and walked away from her. Buffy tasted salt and discovered she'd been crying the whole time without realising. Biting her lip, she followed after Spike, as he now wanted to be known. She preferred William to Spike, that was for sure, but really either him or Liam had to change their name. They were so similar.

Buffy arrived in the dining room and sat next to Liam. She didn't like this room at all. She disliked the windows especially. They were going too fast, way too fast. 250 miles an hour, she'd heard. The only good thing about that speed was that they'd only have to be there for the shortest time possible. It was better not to postpone their imminent death, she supposed. This was the first time she got a real look at their escort. It was a woman with pink hair all curled up, far too much make-up and strange clothes that looked like they would fetch enough to feed the entire district for a month at least. Just like every other Capitol citizen. Buffy hated them all. She looked to Liam beside her, who was drinking a lot of water and holding his head. He looked as if he was going to be sick.

The first course of their dinner came very soon, saving them all the necessity of having to speak to each other. Buffy was amazed at the food, so completely different to what they could eat back home. She was almost full when she'd finished the starter, but they served the main course right away. It was clear that Spike and the pink haired woman were much more used to this volume of food than either she or Liam. Buffy was only able to eat a small amount of her food, but it was perfectly enough and tasted better than anything she'd eaten in her life. After that, she only managed a further three spoonfuls of ice cream from her pudding and then she felt sick. Liam and Spike had both demolished their food and although their escort had eaten everything, she seemed to have taken it for granted much more than any of them. After dinner was finished, they stayed and talked, although it mainly their escort speaking, with neither the mentor nor the tributes contributing to the conversation very much at all. Spike seemed very frustrated the entire time and eventually he left the room, slamming the door behind him. Buffy flinched at the loud sound, turning around and leaning forward. Their escort shook her head in quiet disapproval and Liam merely carried on staring down into the empty glass of wine he held in his hand. Buffy decided that she couldn't stand this anymore and got up to go to her own room. Liam followed her, but of course went to his own room, which, she noticed, was directly beside hers. Buffy took a shower in the en-suite, quite pleased with herself when she managed to make it turn on despite having never taken a shower in her life. She cried quietly, her tears indistinguishable from the warm water than rained down upon her.

* * *

I apologise for my lack of updates. I would promise to update quicker next time, but I dislike making promises just to break them. I hope this chapter was more interesting. It will probably get better when they're in the arena, but I really have no idea.


End file.
